Stained Canvas
by McJollyRancher
Summary: Oneshot, possibly more. Rosalie never told Edward about the cliff diving. His phone call never interrupted Bella and Jacob, but he was planning to come back regardless. And Alice is still in Forks. BellaEdward, BellaJacob. Undecided final pairing.


_No! I hadn't made this decision yet. I didn't know if I could do this, and now I was out of time to think. But I would have been a fool if I thought rejecting him now would have no consequences._

_I stared back at him. He was not my Jacob, but he could be. His face was familiar and beloved. In so man real ways, I did love him. He was my comfort, my safe harbor. Right now, I could choose to have him belong to me._

_ Alice was back for the moment, but that changed nothing. True love was forever lost. The prince was never coming back to kiss me awake from my enchanted sleep. I was not a princess, after all. So what was the fairy-tale protocol for other kisses? The mundane kind that didn't break any spells?_

_Maybe it would be easy—like holding his hand or having his arms around me. Maybe it would feel nice. Maybe it wouldn't feel like a betrayal. Besides, who was I betraying, anyway? Just myself._

_Keeping his eyes on mine, Jacob began to bend his face toward me. And I was still absolutely undecided._

Of course, in this situation where I _should_ be thinking about what was about to happen, and what I should do, all I could think about was how long it took me to think things through. How I over-analyzed everything. Renee once called it "unreasonable over intellectualization". If Edward could read my thoughts, I would have had him tell me if they really were so different from other people's. Edward. _Edward_. The pain came, like it always did. But it felt wrong. _Different_. Jacob's presence usually kept me whole, like he had a third hand that could go through my chest, and hold together my heart. But it was like pulling tight sheets of canvas over a hole, and he had no thread and needle. So he couldn't sew it back together. And the second his hand withdrew, when I couldn't feel his fingers wrapped around my hole it bounced right back to where it used to be…

…wide, open, gaping, bleeding.

I wondered if it was the pain of blood seeping through the wound. Eventually, there wouldn't be any left to bleed. So what happened then? Would I just die, collapse? Or would that be when I could finally move on.

That's when I figured out why the pain was different. It wasn't like the old pain. I was _expecting_ the pain. I was anticipating it. I expected it, because even though the presence of Jacob helped, it was never like I was before. It wasn't like it was _before_ pain. And I still flinched at it trying to get out through some crack in the canvas that Jacob's warm hands diligently held together. But now it felt like there were no cracks. Maybe there never would be any again. Because that's when I noticed that Jacob's lips were on mine.

Like a gentleman, he waited. He paused at the first touch, not moving away, but not going further. Giving me more time to think. Think about _him_. But which 'him' was I thinking about? I wasn't really thinking about Edward… I was thinking about the scar "Edward" on my heart. I was thinking about Edward's Bella. My hole. So did that count as cheating? But Jacob and I weren't certain yet, because we were still stuck in a chasm of time, as we both waited for inspiration of the next move to come. He _was_ giving me time to think.

Edward was the one who represented thinking. It was thinking that brought the hole back… that brought Edward's Bella back. And Jacob and Edward were opposites. Not even Beast to Human, but Foe to Foe. Why should Edward's Bella always have to come through? When I was with Jacob, I just _was_. I didn't need to think about it.

So I stopped thinking, and kissed him back.

Like always, I fed off of Jacob's happiness. I could feel his entire demeanor change, as our lips started to move against each other's. I found it easy to _not_ think. To _not_ be Edward's Bella with Jacob. I didn't once imagine him as being Edward. Because he wasn't. He was warm, for one thing. And being rough with me. Edward never did that. I know I wasn't supposed to be thinking, but somehow Edward snuck in there. But it didn't matter, because this new level of Jacob and Bella was like he found a super glue bottle. He wasn't just holding me together now. I think he was fixing things.

Deep down, maybe I always knew this. That this level would close off the hole. Because I always held back. And as much as the hole hurt, I wasn't supposed to forget. But I _wasn't_ forgetting. I was…

Well, _technically_, I was being shoved (or pulling him) towards kitchen counter, kissing frantically. As warm as I was, I couldn't stop shivering. I needed more of him. I needed him _now_. I wasn't even thinking in romance terms. I just needed him. Right now, I was Jacob's Bella. And I needed him to be mine, too. He broke his promise twice already. And I needed him to never, never again break it. He kept me whole. Edward had left a cold vat… and now I needed the sun to completely come inside of me, fill up the whole. Maybe the answer wasn't closing it. It was filling it.

By now, his T-shirt and my blouse were on the floor, and as much as I had touched him in the past months, it was nothing like this. Ironically, he put his hand on my chest. I pictured it penetrating, and holding my heart. I kissed him again.

Finally, he pulled away. "Bella… what do you think…?"

"I don't want to," I said.

His face fell. His heart jumped off a precipice, falling… falling…

I realized my mistake fast enough to pull him from the currents. I pulled his hands back to my waist. "I don't want to _think_."

He was still unsure. "Bella, you have to be – "

"Please?" I took his face in my hands. "_Please_, Jake…"

Maybe he saw that I was happy. I like to think that my happiness has the same affect on him that _his_ happiness has on me. Because he joined me in my thoughtless bliss.

It was nice being able to painlessly remember Edward for the time being, with my anti-drug pawning over my body. Because I remembered how his kisses messed with my heart. But with Jake kissing me, it didn't speed up, slow down… or stop. It just beat stronger. His third hand was moving up and down it, gluing it together. I've seen the medical shows. How the heart is bleeding during the surgery, but after the final stitch is in, it can breathe again.

Maybe I wasn't breathing yet. But damn it, I was close. And I wasn't about to stop. As his lips moved with mine, the taste of him filling my mouth, the smell of him filling my head, I barely cared as his large hands went behind my back, rubbing my shoulder blades, moved a little lower, and prepared to make one less layer between us.

But then he stopped, again. And I realized that I knew what it was. Because he said it as a draft blew towards us from the crack under the kitchen door. "Bella…"

That's when I looked up and, through the window, saw Alice. I don't know what would have been on her face, but it was too late, because then she was running away. Faster than the speed of sound. Faster than my cry from a sword piercing through one of my brand-new stitches, and she didn't hear it because she was gone.

But Jacob was still here.


End file.
